


If You're Lost and You're Lonely, Go and Figure Out Why

by bekla_writes



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Before The End - Freeform, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Forehead Touching, Hurt/Comfort, I'm just really emotional okay???, Jon and Martin are traveling, Kissing, M/M, Sad and Happy, The Lonely Fear Domain (The Magnus Archives), also I need them to have happy moments that are at the very least in my head, idk what to tag this, idk when this takes place, if you're lost and you're lonely go and figure out why, pre MAG 170, they need time to kiss more, they're gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bekla_writes/pseuds/bekla_writes
Summary: "It took all the time in the world and no time at all for Jon to come to the realization that he Knew Martin had figured out long before him. Humanity, at least what Jon could consider humanity, was what was shared. In the little things, in the accidental touches, in the looks, in being able to understand one another without the other having to finish a sentence. There was humanity. It was there in the bigger things too. In the ability for Jon and Martin to know when the other needed tea before he asked. It was there in Martin’s oversized sweaters that Jon stole to keep himself warm and to watch the fond look that action brought to Martin’s face. It was there in Martin. Martin."Post end of the world. Pre MAG 170.I just want Martin and Jon to be happy.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Kudos: 24





	If You're Lost and You're Lonely, Go and Figure Out Why

**Author's Note:**

> If you're lost and you're lonely  
> Go and figure out why  
> Take a trip to your dark side  
> Go on and have a good cry  
> 'Cause we're all lonely  
> Yeah, we're all lonely together
> 
> \- 'Heavy' by Birdtalker

They were able to walk without pause. There was no longer a need to sleep, to eat, to drink. And for much of this time, besides of course, the necessary stops to record statements, Jon was able to carry on. And on. It was only Martin who stopped them. It was only Martin who urged them to pause, even for a moment, and rest whatever part of themselves still benefited from the lack of forward movement. When asked, Martin said something of comfort, of trying to “feel a little more human in this inhuman place.” 

Jon had not felt human in quite some time. But at the other man’s urgings, he tried. He tried to turn off the Sight, quench the hunger for information ever present in the true fiber of his being. He tried his best to find comfort in what little humanity he had left. 

_ But what counted as humanity now? _ Jon thought as they walked over dull green-grey grass that had once been a pasture of some kind. What was humanity now that everything was over? Time had basically stopped—stopped in the only way that something never ending could stop. What was humanity when you were able to walk endlessly with the man you loved, never eating, never drinking, never sleeping, never asking of the other anything at all? 

It took all the time in the world and no time at all for Jon to come to the realization that he Knew Martin had figured out long before him. Humanity, at least what Jon could consider humanity, was what was shared. In the little things, in the accidental touches, in the looks, in being able to understand one another without the other having to finish a sentence. There was humanity. It was there in the bigger things too. In the ability for Jon and Martin to know when the other needed tea before he asked. It was there in Martin’s oversized sweaters that Jon stole to keep himself warm and to watch the fond look that action brought to Martin’s face. It was there in Martin.  _ Martin _ .

When had the silence fallen? 

Jon blinked at his surroundings, realizing all at once how deep he had fallen into his own thoughts. They had been holding hands, talking about some event—insignificant now, in the grand scheme of things—that they had attended during their early days working for the Institute. But now Jon’s hand was empty and Martin was not beside him.

“Martin—” Jon started, turning.

Martin was walking slowly after him, falling farther and farther behind. His eyes were focused on something unseen, something far away but also much too close.

“W-wait,” Martin said. He stopped walking and squeezed his eyes shut. “Jon, I—can-can we stop. Please. For a minute.” 

When Martin opened his eyes, they were foggy, filled with a thin layer of the white clouds that marked the Lonely’s touch. Martin’s mind was filled with that same fog. It was familiar, so familiar that it was almost comforting. Almost. But there was also that same tinge of dulled and numbed anxiety that had sat in the pit of Martin’s stomach the entire time he had worked with and for Peter Lucas. 

He blinked, but his eyelids were sluggish. After Jon had saved him and guided him out, he could still  _ feel it.  _ The fog, the haziness, the distance that had been created between him and everything and everyone he loved. The distance he had helped create. In Daisy’s safehouse, it was there, hovering at the corners of his mind. He was able to keep it at bay—mostly. There were times, though, when he could feel it creeping back in. 

The distance was welcoming, pleasantly quieting, like being inside during a heavy rain. But it would also be...what was the word for it?

“Martin?” Jon’s voice broke through the haziness, but only slightly. 

“I need to sit,” Martin said. “I need to...um…” He shook his head. “Um. It’s hard to...to—” 

It would also be disconcerting. That was the word he was looking for, he thought. There was always a moment of far-off panic that worked at his heart as he felt the Lonely’s influence take hold. It was always a breath of relief to be enveloped in that fog. But the panic. When he reached the feeling of panic, it was already too late. 

“Martin,” Jon repeated, more forcefully this time. This caused Martin to jump slightly, his eyes to clear, but then the fog rushed back, heavier than before. “Martin.” Jon’s voice was stern now as he closed the distance between them. 

Martin sat on a rock, his shoulders slumped, staring at nothing.

“I’m...sorry,” Martin said, his voice seeming to come from somewhere else. “I’m sorry, Jon.”

His voice was soft, gentle, and it made Jon’s chest clench.  _ A bit of humanity. _

Jon knelt in front of him and placed his hands on the other man’s knees.

“About what?” he asked.

Martin was silent for a moment. He stared past Jon’s shoulder, out to the broken world around them. Then, a small smile passed over his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated and Jon had to steady himself before he accidentally Saw what Martin was feeling. 

He had promised Martin, promised him that he would not Know things about him, that he would  _ ask _ . But neither of them had predicted how hard that would be. Neither of them, especially Jon, realized how painful it would be to not Know what Martin was thinking, feeling, wanting.

The few times Jon slipped up and Saw Martin’s mind, it took everything he had to pull away. To put away the Eyes. Because, Martin’s mind—it was beautiful. It was soft and strong and full of emotions. Full of humanity. Full of what Jon felt he had so little of.

And it was full of love. Love for little things like tea, the breeze when it rustled the leaves, the sun peaking through the clouds in little shafts of light. Love for people. People who didn’t deserve it. People like Jon. 

But there was also...hatred there. Hatred for people who did deserve it and some hatred for people who didn’t. People like Martin.

“Martin,” Jon said, shifting position so that he could look directly into his misty brown eyes. “Martin. We’ve done this before.”

“It’s my fault. And… I’m...just holding you back.”

Jon stared at him, frowning. Then, he laughed.

“What? Martin, I—” His voice cracked. He sat down on the stone beside Martin, wrapping his arm as far as he could around the larger man’s torso, pulling them closer together. “You could never… Hold me back, I mean. I…” He shook his head. “Look at me.”

Martin’s head swiveled slowly. Jon pressed one hand to Martin’s cheek, to make sure he didn’t turn away, and to touch him, to be as close to him as possible.

“You are—” Jon laughed. “You are the reason I’m still something resembling a person.” His thumb began to move, tracing quick lines over Martin’s skin. “You are not holding me back. Quite the opposite, actually. You’re…” He thought for a minute.

How can you put into words the reason you love someone if it’s so inherent, so obvious?

Martin closed his eyes and was now shaking his head slightly. His hand fumbled for Jon for a moment before finding his jumper. He wrapped his hand in the knitted fabric, gripping it until his knuckles turned white.

“Martin. You are...my reason,” Jon said at last. “For everything. And I realized it far too late. Far too late. And I’m so sorry, Martin. I’m so sorry.  _ I  _ should be the one apologizing. You—I—We… I took you for granted. I didn’t know until…”

Jon looked closer at Martin’s face. His cheeks were damp, tears running down the crease between Jon’s hand and his skin, trickling down Jon’s wrists.

“And it’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault.” Jon’s words were quiet and for a few minutes they sat there, Jon stroking Martin’s cheek, Martin holding Jon as close as he could. 

“What can I do to help you?” Jon asked.

“We’re getting too close.” Martin’s voice was almost a breath.

“Closer to…” But Jon didn’t have to finish the sentence. He knew where they were headed. The Lonely, just like every other fear, had it’s domain, and they were some length of time, some number of footsteps, away from being within it. 

Martin’s eyes were still closed. But his arms had made their way around Jon at some point so now they sat on the rock, holding each other. Jon shifted and pressed a small kiss to the side of the other’s head.

“ _ Please, _ Martin,” Jon said, his lips brushing against Martin’s skin. It was almost a beg. “I-I want to help you as much as I can. As much as this place will let me.”

“I’m not sure you can.”

Jon huffed. “That’s not a good answer.”

Before Martin could say anything else, he stood and motioned for Martin to get up, too.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. Well! Let’s start with you standing up.”

Martin did.

“Okay, good.” Jon reached up to brush Martin’s cheek, wipe away more of the tears. “Let’s—” But suddenly he was flung away as Martin stumbled back, eyes flying open to reveal white irises and grey pupils.

“No!” Martin cried. His whole body was trembling. “We’re too close. We’re—” His face contorted in pain, in despair, in desperation, in hopelessness. And he began to sink to the ground. His face became almost blank. If it weren’t for the slight furrow of his eyebrows, there would have been no emotion at all. “No.” This time the word was a whisper.

Jon took a shuddering breath, walked over to him, and knelt down again. “Martin,” he said, his voice gentler now than he’d ever heard it. Gentler, even, that it had been in the Lonely itself. “Martin, if you can hear me—” His voice quavered. “You are not alone, Martin. I...won’t leave you. You are not holding me back. You are  _ not. Alone. _ ”

“We all are, aren’t we?” Martin asked. “We’re all alone in the world and then we’re gone.”

“I refuse to believe that.”

“We all survive…”

“We’ve  _ done _ this already.”

“We’re all alone. But we all survive.”

Jon sighed. He wiped away a tear of his own.

“Martin... Martin!” He sighed again and leaned forward. Their foreheads touched for a moment and Jon brought his hands to rest on Martin’s shoulders. He pressed a kiss to his temple and sat back. “I—” He let out a sad laugh. “I have not said this nearly as much as I should. But, if I’m honest, this scares me almost as much as—” He gestured around them.

Martin watched him with his pale eyes. His face was blank except for the tears slowly streaming down his cheeks.

“I love you, Martin.” Jon swallowed hard. “I love you. And, uh…” He chuckled and cleared his throat. “And it hurts in the best possible way. I—” He wiped another tear away. “I am here because of you. Well, er… Not  _ here _ . In this  _ hellscape _ . I mean. What do I mean?”

Martin blinked, his eyes clearing a bit.

“I would be a monster,” Jon said, finally. “If you weren’t here. I—I don’t know, honestly don’t know, what I’d do. Where I’d be. Lost, probably.”

“The apocalypse,” Martin said and Jon frowned at him.

“What?”

A lazy smile crept to Martin’s lips and his eyes regained more of their color.

“I stepped away for an hour and you brought on the apocalypse.” Then, Martin started crying. And laughing. 

Jon pulled him into a hug. Martin laughed and sobbed into his shoulder and Jon smiled against his hair.

“See? You can’t leave me for a minute,” Jon whispered. “Who knows what would happen if I was wandering this place without you?”

Martin gripped him tighter.

“Nothing good,” Jon said, “I can’t see the future, but I know that much.”

Martin’s laugh hitched.

“I will never leave you,” he said. “I’d—They’d have to kill me.”

“It’s your turn to look at me now,” Martin said, nudging Jon away from him reluctantly.

Jon wiped his face with both hands then stared at him. “Yes?”

“Shh!” Martin hissed. He took Jon’s chin in one cupped palm and touched his cheek with the fingertips of the other. Slowly, gently, Martin began tracing every mark, every scar, every crevice that etched and marred Jon’s face and neck.

The urge to stop him was so overwhelming that he took Martin’s still arm in his hands and closed his eyes.

When Martin was finished, Jon’s skin was hot and he was holding back tears.

“Why?” Jon asked but Martin ignored him.

“Does anything hurt?” he asked, quietly.

“Yes,” Jon said, laughing and opening his eyes. “But it’s okay.”

“I love you, too, you know.”

Jon smiled.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Jon’s voice was gravely and trembling.

Martin’s answer was a smile and as he pulled Jon to him, Jon knew that it was for everything and nothing. When they kissed, the fog that lingered in Martin’s head was pushed to the furthest corners of his mind, and some humanity blossomed in Jon’s chest.


End file.
